XXXIX. EDACITY
And I, sad soul, am not the only one,
For all these suffer the like penalty
For the like sin," and word no more spake he.
Magnificence Grandeura Callarosa. 18.
District One Female.
Forrest of Food, Center. 13:07.
TW: Mentions of sexual assault.
Well… it's not like she's not used to people not listening to her.
Why would people listen to a dead girl? Even if they don't know Magnificence is dead, they know somethings wrong with her. They have to know something's wrong. And she tries to hide it, stay friendly and positive and sunny, but that's not who she is. Sure, she's done a good enough job before, but there's just… something about this place… And it makes her feel like she's spiraling beyond her control.
(Not that she had control to begin with, as hard as she's tried.)
And she hates that everything's inarguably not going to plan. At first she thought the Pack's clear downfall would be good for her. She'd be able to wedge them apart subtly until they're all on their own yet… that very much is not the case. Sure, there's a divide, but it's everyone against Hesson, and Magnificence isn't all that sure why he's still here if he's just complaining about everything. And she's hoping for a more even splinter, every person for themselves, yet she doesn't think that'll be the case since Cyra and Ludo are so damn attached to one another and Saia just follows them around like a little puppy. It's… fine though. They're good people, they truly are, they're just making things quite difficult for her.
But she can adapt, obviously she'll get through this just like she's gotten through a myriad of other shit, this is just… a minor inconvenience, that's all. But granted she doesn't have time for minor inconveniences when she's quite literally running around the porch by death's doorstep. So she's trying to make the best out of it, get closer with Cyra so maybe it's overall less miserable, yet that doesn't seem to work. The girl seems… distracted to put it simply, or at the very least only really caring about her partner and not everybody else's wellbeing to the same extent she prioritizes her own. Again though, that's valid. Magnificence would immediately be suspicious of somebody who prioritized the other members of the Pack, people they just met, over themself, but then Cyra and Ludo are the exception to that rule because they're so clearly different. They're family, and it's hard for anybody to deny it.
And seeing how close the two of them are only makes Magnificence go home and see her own family, people who prioritize her and care about her, her parents and their smiling faces cheering her on, and then of course… Beau. She didn't know the extent to which she could miss a person until this separation from her son. The funerals which haunt her dreams are now interrupted by the screams of the baby, his shrill voice calling for her "Mama, Mama!," yet when she opens her eyes she's once again alone.
Which is far too common for Magnificence, that painful feeling of solitude, feeling stuck in her skin like there's nowhere for her to run to because no matter what she'll be alone and she doesn't want to be alone because that would mean dealing with things, and lord knows she doesn't need that. Because then she'll be human and Magnificence is everything but. Humans die and Magnificence is already so dead so why's she got to show her emotions so flippantly when all they do is kill her.
They sure killed her the first time when she met Jasper.
Well, to be more accurate once she got to know Jasper Laurent better, her father's trainee at the Peacekeeping office, and somebody Magnificence honestly thought was a good person. He had to be if her father trusted him to hang out around the house with her when nobody else was home, watching her while her parents worked. If Sardius Callarosa trusted him, then Magnificence was comfortable doing the same, hell he was basically her father's son.
Even if in hindsight, Magnificence should have known that something was off with him. That was probably because she was so young though, and she figured it was normal enough for Jasper to make strange comments about her and stare at her body. At the time, she couldn't even blame him, as she was growing up and her body was changing so maybe it made sense that he was looking at it. Maybe he was just interested in the fact she was growing. And the other girls at the Academy would always talk about how they wished older boys would like them, so maybe she should've appreciated Jasper's attention.
Because yes, eventually his looking turned to touching under her clothes when nobody could see, Magnificence biting her tongue the entire time as Jasper told her that she couldn't tell anybody about this or she'd be in "huge trouble," and she promised him that she would't tell a soul. She meant it too, because she knew her parents were so stressed out with work and the last thing they needed to do was worry about their daughter when it wasn't like she was at risk of dying or anything. Sure, Jasper had stolen her youth, her peace of mind, and the ability and freedom to confide in her parents, but at least she was still alive, right? So she didn't break under the pressure and her family finally deemed her mature enough to stay at home by herself once she turned thirteen.
She thought she'd finally be a kid again, Jasper deployed in Two and the weight of the world off her shoulders for once. She was free… she was so free and so happy and… lord she should have enjoyed it more when she had the chance. Then again, it wasn't her fault; Magnificence didn't know that her fifteenth year would be the last time she was ever free to be a kid.
(She always said that if she saw Jasper again she'd speak out against him. She always said she'd be strong enough to face him head first, fearless.)
He came back from Two when she was fifteen and he was just as close with her father. How could Magnificence ruin that? And just the thought of telling her father that his closest friend was a monster sickened her.
(She doesn't know why she even bothered fighting back.)
One night her father got called out on an emergency and her mother was at work so of course, Jasper of all people was told to watch the house while Magnificence was asleep. She was barely conscious when it happened too, all she remembered was the smell of alcohol under his breath as she punched and scratched the man, tried to pierce his flesh with her teeth for what felt like an eternity until finally he left and she just… sat… alone.
(It was just a nightmare, right?)
And she felt like shit the next day so she told her parents she was just worried for her father since his job was quite dangerous and he was prone to head injuries, but really she was just tired, her eyes open as she convinced herself that what happened with Jasper wasn't real. It was her brain playing tricks on her.
Yet she couldn't keep it a secret forever. Her period stopped and she found herself hunched over the toilet every morning until there was no denying that she was fourteen weeks pregnant.
"I didn't think you'd do such a thing," Her mother was astonished at first when Magnificence told her, yet it became painstakingly obvious that the pregnancy wasn't over own volition.
(She's still so glad she told her about Jasper.)
And as horrified as Sardius was, as much as he wanted to blame himself for it, there was nothing he could do except not be surprised when Jasper's body was found dead in a ditch a week later.
She always questions if she even made the right choice when she decided to go through with having the baby, but in her eyes, she just was unable to punish this new life for circumstances beyond his control.
And now Beau's everything yet Magnificence is nothing… just a slave to the emotions she held deep in her chest for sixteen years, monsters screaming in her head as she tried to adjust to the new life she created for herself when a year later she found herself suck… Jasper's assault playing in her head like a broken record, her nights woken by tears, Beau doesn't deserve me for his mother… I'm just too broken to raise him…
So in a way, not feeling is easier. Putting her brain on auto-pilot and being intensive to it all is easier. As long as she convinces herself that she's died inside her mind, she doesn't have to feel the frantic beating of her heart whenever she thinks of Jasper. She's at peace in death.
(If only she could be at peace in life…)
I need to get back to Beau… Maybe then I'll feel free again.
Bubba St. Robbins. 18.
District Five Male.
Forrest of Food, South. 15:40.
It's a relatively uneventful day for Bubba until he hears the whistling of a parachute pierce his eardrums before landing in his hands. He's confused, but he holds the grey package in his hands, his name embroidered in the fabric while he sits on a ground of crackers and tomato sauce, the idea of keeping his outfit neat no longer a priority. Part of him's worried the package has some sort of a bomb inside of it and he's about a minute away from blowing his head off, but he rationalizes it with the theory that the Capitol would never give him something made to kill him. They get more of a rush when the kids kill each other and they have no need to interfere. Though… Bubba does wonder what the hell he did to even deserve a gift, not that he's going to question the fact that somebody decided to send him something.
It's a bit rough, tearing through the material until he finds a yellow card with a message attached:
S.S.S… Start Scooping Shit.
Bubba rolls his eyes, What the ever-loving fuck is this? His fingers pull away at layers of tissue paper until he finds a silver handle, I've already got a weapon… His thoughts wander before he finally unwraps the gift and learns it is very much not a weapon.
It's an eye cream scooper, shiny and silver and perfectly clean. And Bubba laughs to himself before calling out to the sky in a whisper, "Thank you, whoever the fuck sent this," and even softer, "If you'd have given me something I can actually be resourceful with I would have liked that more, just saying."
A nice enough distraction for what Bubba assumes with be a nice enough day. Right? Wrong. Not much time passes before Bubba hears rustling leaves coming from behind him.
For fuck's sake…Again, Bubba rolls his eyes, I swear if this scooper thing was some sort of way to prepare me for a mutt, I'm going to be so fucking pissed.
Yet there's no mutt near him. No mythical monster he'd be barely be able to kill if he was even able to. Just him. Bubba St. Robbins and his butcher knife and ice cream scoop.
The bushes rustle again and he calls out this time, "Is somebody fucking here?" But he doesn't get a response so he asks once more, "Well not like fucking here as in I mean somebody's having an orgy in the middle of this arena. I just mean is somebody in my presence."
Silence, and then the light sound of footsteps from behind him. Bubba turns his neck to see the same boy he saw the last day tip-toeing past him with bare hands… And he looks down to his own hands, hands capable of killing. He recalls his worry, The Capitol wants me to do something… if I don't do something then suddenly I'm fucked and they'll sick their mutts on me.
Still, he holds his breath, I refuse to be the bad guy. This isn't me. But the boy's so… short and an objectively easy target, and Bubba's all alone, no allies no nothing doing jack shit to prove to the Capitolites that he's interesting, so does he really deserve to be alive right now? What's he done to prove to the Capitol that he's a good Victor? He's supposed to be good at entertaining, he's supposed to be able to put on a show. But this isn't me… Bubba knows it in his heart, he knows that killing somebody for the sake of killing them makes him just like those Careers, but at the same time he's so nervous… because if he doesn't kill this boy when he has the chance right in front of him then the Capitol's going to decide he's not worth it for them and then they're going to kill him.
I'm not a bad person though… This isn't who I am, Bubba looks down at his meat cleaver and then at the boy, his strolls careless, But I want to live, and I can't live if I don't kill. He mutters under his breath, "I fucking hate it here." Because there's no way out unless he completely throws his morals out the window and hell they're the only thing Bubba has at this point. The only thing he has besides… his life. And that's important, right? That's the one thing Bubba can't lose no matter what.
Just pretend he's Wally and the others, He inhales, Just pretend that killing him is something you have to do.
(He doesn't have to kill the boy.)
…He attacks anyways.
His legs are long, good for going fast so it doesn't take long for Bubba to catch up to the boy, now able to identify him by the number ten on the back of his shirt. They make eye contact for a brief moment before he grabs at Bubba's shirt and shrieks, "What do you want from me?"
He's already aggressive and Bubba hasn't even done shit, so his mind wanders, Why am I doing this again?
—To live… Right.
Bubba inhales, "Listen…" And then he realizes he doesn't know what he's supposed to say. What's he going to do, announce to somebody that he's about to kill them just seconds before? That makes him seem just as bad as the Careers, the people who trained to kill, trained to kill him. They see Bubba as worthless, he's sure of it. They think even less of him then his parents do, stupid Outer-District boy who somehow clutched up a good training score.
Ten brushes Bubba away from him, "I'm listening… what do you want from me, asshole?"
"I…" Bubba hesitates. Killing's come so easy to him in the past but now that he's against an innocent he has no idea what to do. But Ten's running away so he follows him as the ground cracks underneath his feat and his hand's cuffed around his wrist, "I'm sorry, okay?"
"For what?" Ten's face is a tomato shade of red, "If you're going to kill me just tell me."
Bubba notices he's eyeing his cleaver so he drags it over his head, tears in Ten's eyes of both uncertainty and dread. His stomach is churning and his head is racing at thousands of miles an hour, telling him that he's the villain he always said he wasn't if he kills Ten. He's who he's always feared.
"Shut up," Bubba grits his teeth in an attempt to silence those voices. He can face them later… for now, he's gotten himself into a sticky situation, and he's fucked if he doesn't do something because then either the Capitol will laugh at him, call him a coward and send something to kill him… or the Ten boy will kill him first.
"Talking to yourself?" The Ten boy asks in confusion.
So Bubba raises his voice, talking to Ten now, "Shut up."
And Ten's feet are dragging against the ground as he tries to break free yet it doesn't work. He's trying so hard yet Bubba… Yet…
Yet… Bubba St. Robbins attacks first, his cleaver landing in between Ten's neck and collarbone.
"What the shit…" Ten mutters, falling to the ground with a thud, his feet in the air and his ankles striking against Bubba's thighs. He looks over to examine his own wound yet he's unable too, his eyes rolling over and a look of nausea on his face.
Bubba's about to feel just as sick, yet he stops himself and digs into his pocket to find the scoop, twirling it in his left hand.
"I can't look at it…" Ten shivers, the crimson of Bubba's wound seeping through his vest and onto the ground, "Make it stop…"
Bubba sighs, bringing the scoop on top of one of Ten's eyelids and instructing him, "Just open your eyes, it'll be easier."
This… it'll help him. He doesn't want to see the blood… Bubba rationalizes, Ten screaming once the tip of the scoop pierces into his left socket, nerves severing as Bubba tries to break his eyeball free. It's… surprisingly easy, the steel of the tool scraping against his skin with ease, his screams not doing a thing to stop Bubba from catching his eye in the basin.
It's quite frankly disgusting, so Bubba let's it roll on the ground before doing the same to Ten's other eyeball, trying not to look at the pits of gore he's left. And throughout this Ten's feet are kicking at Bubba's ribs and abdomen so he tightens his stomach as to avoid any damage… This is what the Capitol wants… they want me to give them a show…
"I'm so sorry," Bubba says again and he still means it, even if Ten keeps muttering curses under his breath.
Blood's leaking from the place where he once had eyes and Bubba does his best to ignore it as he brings the cleaver down to his throat, again repeating, I have to do this…
It's easier than it looks, slicing though the pliable layers of Ten's flesh until his head snaps to the side and a cannon fires.
Bubba looks away, I'm not the bad guy… I'm not the bad guy… I'm not!
But Ten's lifeless body says otherwise and Bubba refuses to let it speak.
Luminosity "Lumi" Abrixus. 16.
District Three Female.
Forrest of Food, East. 16:15.
TW: Depiction of cannibalism.
She hasn't eaten in days… that's how Lumi justifies it. She's out of her mind and she knows it all too well, yet there's nothing stopping her from doing it. They haven't gotten rid of the corpse yet, and her hunger… just grows with every passing second as she looks at Sable's lifeless body, the gash in her chest and the slit through her throat. She isn't even sure if she can say she's just angry at this point, no Lumi feels worse.
There's something in her mind telling her she can't, People don't eat people, Lumi. People eat food and another person isn't food Lumi, a voice telling her she's rightfully ridiculous for even considering it, but then there's another voice too.
And it's louder, Lumi, you're so fucking hungry. This is the closest you've had to food in days. Lumi you're so hungry.
She listens to it, even if she's not sure what's taken over her, like some existential force is controlling her brain and it's not her that uses her knife to dig into Sable's left leg, her thigh more specifically. She figures, it has the most nutrients due to it's mixture of fat and muscle which mean's she'd have to eat the least of it. Lumi closes her eyes, not that it matters since Sable's unable to bleed due to the whole being dead thing. With a sawing motion she cuts through layers of flesh, her other hand on the ground to steady herself. She grunts, too, the meat thick and tender.
There's a faint clicking sound when the tip of the knife finally reaches Sable's femur, prompting Lumi to cut in a square shape, the slicing still rough with every pull of her blade. She exhales, sharp, There's still time for me to go back on this one… I don't have to do this… Her stomach grows though and she keeps digging the knife through the flesh.
The square she makes is about five by five inches and she's hopeful that it'll be enough to fulfill her for at least a few days, pulling back from her incision to use the knife to free the chunk. Lumi carefully places the blade underneath the meat and presses upwards, her left hand clutching flesh once it's released.
It almost looks like steak, though the veins are more prominent and the fat's attached more firmly. It's a brighter shade of red too, further alerting Lumi that she shouldn't be doing what she's doing, yet she's so hungry… And she holds the chunk of flesh in her hand, squishing from top to bottom, insides jiggling like gelatin in a mold. She shouldn't be eating it… She has to eat it. It's called the Hunger Games after all, the Capitol should be glad she's doing this out of hunger.
She cuts off a small piece from the bottom of her chunk at first, barely an inch cubed and rests the remainder of her "meal" on her thigh. Lumi's eyes trace the small bit of meat before she closes them and places the flesh in her mouth.
Her teeth grind through the tendons and nerves slowly at first, small remnants of juices swirling into her mouth. Lumi wishes she could say it didn't taste surprisingly good. She's always liked her steak cooked rare after all. It's tough though, probably because this isn't meant to be consumed, but Lumi takes her time, savoring the fact she's able to eat once again, even if it's such a terrible meal. Because it really is… quite good. Too good to be true, nearly.
Once the first bit's down her throat, Lumi finds herself still wanting more so she holds the remainder of the chunk up to her mouth and takes a bite, a small splatter of juice as some of the flesh caught in her teeth tears away from the remainder. It's still good though, even if Lumi's still hungry, Sable tastes good. Sable's her meal even if it's again, not one she should be eating.
And it shouldn't have been so easy for Lumi to tear through the remainder of her chunk, yet she's able to finish with her mouth drooling and her palms sweating. Her tongue does it's best to clean out the remaining bits of flesh stuck between her teeth, but once that's over Lumi still finds herself hungry… greedy… like she still wants more…
But the thighs… they don't really fill her the way she'd like them too. She needs something more rich in fat since that'll give her more stamina. Her mind scrolls through the parts of the body as she tries to recall which one is the fattiest when she comes to the most terrible of conclusions… it's the brain, isn't it?
Lumi has to. She has to use the back of the knife to thrust against Sable's forehead and crack her skull so she can access what she needs to eat. She grunts when she slices through the skin so she can expose the bones, ripping tendons away to make her incision. It's still tough to shatter the skull, even with all her might thrusted against the bone and part of her thinks she should just give up, but she knows that she's no fucking quitter.
Once the bones begin to crack, it's easier for her to use her fingers to pry away at them bit by bit, piece by piece until Sable's frontal cortex is exposed. She's seen brains before in school so this isn't too shocking to her, but then again it is her first time eating one.
But the brain's easier to tear through in comparison to Sable's thigh, the meat more tender even if the coloring's a sickly shade of grey. It's easy for her to cut back at bones to make more room for her knife to gather chunks of matter with a citrus like texture, folds squishy and soft as they pile into Lumi's hand.
Just like with the thigh meat, Lumi has her regrets before she takes her first bite, but just like with the thigh meat, this is so worth it. The brain's easier to chew into, so light that it nearly squirms and slips through her teeth with every nibble.
Because it tastes better too, tastes sweet, tastes like the success she used to have before the Capitol threw it all away for her. It slides down her throat with ease, and she already can tell it's rich and will keep her full for a while. So she eats more of it, propping up Sable's head so she can violently shake it and watch the brain pour from the hole in her skull. It's like a sludge, almost, but she grabs it's sliminess in all it's glory and licks away at it while taking small bites with her teeth.
Finally… I feel better, Lumi grunts with every bite, I feel so much better… And she practically ignores the nausea in her stomach because the brain matter is too good, too fulfilling for her to deny it. Her eyes are crying and she doesn't know if it's because she's mad at herself or because it just is too delicious that she feels unworthy of such a delicacy.
And throughout this Sable looks so innocent and shy, so naive like she has no idea what's happening to her remains because she's dead and she's no clue what her remains have become. But maybe it's better off this way because now she doesn't need to see how awful it is. Nobody needs to see what Lumi does to Sable except herself (and the entire country.)
She finishes the brain rather quickly and her stomach is finally full. Her hands brush against Sable's vest to clean them of the slime and gunk, but she licks them first to absorb any last nutrients they might have. Lumi brushes her tongue against her lips with immense satisfaction then grabs the knife with her hand and steps away from the body before she can be assed to eat more.
It isn't until she's five minutes away that she realizes the full extent of what she's done. Damn, maybe she really is the monster that all of Panem deemed her to be.
Checkers Chopin. 15.
District Eight Tribute.
Forrest of Food, East. 18:20.
Uneventful is good… right? Yeah! Checkers is glad nothing particularly sensational's happened to them in the past few days, they needed a break from all the violence, and while there's definitely violence still occurring, three canons firing now since the first day, they're pleased it doesn't involve them.
Still they continuously feel like they're being watched, even if they haven't seen anybody besides the shadows of girls running, Checkers is unable to sleep for more than an hour at a time, and they're so dreadfully convinced, Somebody's out to get me… Somebody's going to kill me because of what I did to Seven, and I don't think I'll be able to defend myself this time… So they move around sporadically, never in the same place for too long in fear of being caught by somebody, Otto's leg wrapped between their fingers at all times and Tissue on their shoulder like he's looking out for danger.
"You know Tissue," Checkers often finds themself talking to the frog even though it's obviously incapable of talking back to them, "You're a real good buddy. I've been having fun with you."
Tissue stares at Checkers, his eyes wide with excitement as he sticks out his tongue and brushes against Checkers' cheek which evokes a ticklish sensation. Even though it's become a rare phenomenon, Checkers laughs, "Yeah, you're a real good buddy."
In a way, having Tissue has been the closest thing to therapy that Checkers has ever experienced. Being with the frog is the first time that Checkers has felt so unequivocally unafraid to be themself, silly and vibrant, radiating life from every last nerve. Even with Curie and the others, Checkers was afraid that they'd be judged at first, but with Tissue, their bond has always felt so strong and Checkers knew right away that they could tell their little critter anything without fear of being disliked.
And even though Tissue would never say anything in response to Checkers' rambling, he stills interacts with them to show that he's paying attention, licking their hand or their vest rapidly when Checkers' was excited or more subtle when Checkers had a somber tone in their voice. It's like… Tissue is obviously a completely different species yet they understand Checkers better than they ever thought they could be understood, well better than anyone besides their father.
Maybe that is because there were certainly aspects of Tissue that resemble Checkers' friends, but only the good parts, none of the bad, though they were far and few between. For starters, Tissue is a lot like Curie in the sense that both of them have an immaculate desire to eat the best foods while still being conscious of their health. This past day's little segment has been full of food on the ground and whenever Checkers sets Tissue on the ground to feed him, he carefully inspects all of the food to make sure what he's eating is safe, even checking the food before offering some to Checkers. Tissue is just… beautifully paternal like that without being at all overbearing. Checkers knows that they act out of love and love alone because strangely this critter really does care for them.
Tissue's similarity to Otto is far more physical and obvious. A few hours ago they were strolling through the trees when Tissue's leg got stuck underneath a branch and Checkers tried to free him but it ended miserably. It ended with Tissue's bottom left leg having to be removed, and while they were sad at first, eventually they got over it when Tissue seemed to be fine from the wound and oddly enough, it deeply resembled Otto and the way he didn't let his disability get to him, he just continued to hop along like everything was fine. And that positivity made Checkers glad, like they could carry on for the day without much worry since at least they had each other and at least Tissue hadn't completely died. No, no, they are nowhere close to death, Checkers is just too dramatic for their own good.
And Tissue has this sassy flair to him that is so similar to Jo. Checkers can just tell that Tissue's not ever going to tolerate anybody's crap and when they walk, it's with the flamboyance style and flair of the very queens Jo always resembled. Additionally, Tissue's green skin makes him look as bright as some of the makeup that Jo would decorate his face with.
Yet… he's not always going to be enough, and Checkers knows that. They can't help but feel that same dread that consumed them when they were with their friends in the clothing shop and they just had a feeling soon either they would die or everybody else would die and then they would be so dreadfully alone that they wouldn't have a clue what to do with themself. It's too good to be true, this wonderful critter winding up in Checker's hands almost like a stroke of luck, some sort of a miracle.
Good things have to come to an end at some point, right? Especially for Checkers Chopin. Checkers who loses everything they love to the hands of those more normal, more vicious or intangible. Checkers who'll never quite be good enough as hard as they tries, always the odd one out. Checkers who's escaped death far too many times and can't help but feel like it's always crawling up from behind them with the vengeance to knock them dead, because try as hard as they want but Checkers isn't cut out for this world. They're too bold, too exuberant and eccentric and they're not the sort that Panem wants.
They're supposed to be a mold of a person, a cookie-cutter template of what any good child should be, all black and white when the one thing they want is color. Yet Checkers can't promise that and as a result death chases them, even if it misses it hurts who they love. It hurt their father and it hurt their friend and soon enough it'll hurt Tissue too. And once Tissue is gone, it'll come for Checkers who will for once have nothing left to help soothe the mess they've made of the world.
Checkers struggles too find food, never completely trusting whether or not it should be consumed in large portions when it's just lying around on the floor. Much like Tissue, it's almost too good to be true and that leaves them horrified. They've just never felt so… stuck with life before the Capitol decided to plague them. So they'll never break free unless they hurt somebody who didn't deserve to be hurt, wound a soul that probably deserves to stay alive more than they do, yet that doesn't mean Checkers doesn't want to live.
Is it selfish? Maybe, since Checkers Chopin is a monster for what they did to Seven. They don't deserve to live after the way they so violently and carelessly assaulted him, yet they want to anyways. They don't deserve to but they want too.
And maybe Tissue wants them to live as well, though constant reassurance and laughter and joy, Tissue wants Checkers to live just the same. It's like Tissue is a vessel of their father speaking down from the heavens and begging them not to join him. Promising them that everything's going to be alright and there's no reason for them to hate themself the way they do when all they were doing was trying to survive, even if that left somebody dead in the process. It wasn't Checkers' fault, it was the fault of the system and they can't change that.
…But oh how they want to. Oh how they wish they never had to leave the tranquility of Eight to be sent into a spiral to madness, a road to ruin and despair that they never asked to board. And for what? Because of a war that their parents weren't even alive for. And that's supposed to be a good method of keeping everybody in line how? What lesson are they even teaching? If anything it just makes Checkers want to act out more, scream and shout until nobody can do anything to stop them, yet they know they can't be so naive.
The world's terrible, and Checkers finally sees it for what it is. An endless cycle of pain and hurt where a happy ending isn't even guaranteed and even less so likely to happen. So there's no point to it, no point to the joy and the laughter if they don't have anybody to share it with. No point to the light if there's always going to be a more devastating dark that follows. No point to anything when the world is simply nothing.
There's no point if Checkers can never truly be free they way they want.
Danika Xiong. 17.
District Ten Female.
The Buffet. 20:05.
She considers herself lucky that she's stuffed full due to the buffet she spent her day at with Silvana and Hennessy, all the food she could ever desire piled high to the sky, but that doesn't change the nervous pit in her stomach that's been sweltering.
Two cannons… Two people dead and Danika's horrified that one of them could be Lobo. Goofy yet charming Lobo that she'd been low-key hoping would come back to her and the others all day yet never showed up. And two cannons fired… If one of them was for Lobo then he'd die thinking Danika hated him, wished she never spoke to him in the first place, and well that was far from the truth. Yes, she was mad at him the other day but she quite frankly got too carried away in the midst of the violence and Silvana's injury to stop and analyze everything. Stop and realize that what she was saying could possibly be hurtful and she wasn't doing a thing to stop the others.
Which was probably because she was pissed at Lobo for initiating contact with the mutt, yet at the same time at least she was alive, and everyone else was alive. At least Silvana's injury didn't seem to be too serious, her skin stitching back together quite nicely. It should've been the end of it. She shouldn't have agreed to Silvana's demands for Lobo's removal yet Danika was so so utterly worried to the point where she swore up and down that her mind was bouncing in the wrong part of her head.
So now if Lobo's dead, it's Danika's fault for not saying anything about it when she could have stopped it so easily. She could have knocked some sense into Silvana and Hennessy's minds so that they'd realize how awful everyone was being any maybe then Lobo would still be there with them. Maybe then Lobo's life wouldn't be in mental limbo. But then again maybe Danika should have tried to go after him today, but she didn't and she felt sick for it. Maybe it was fear that he'd somehow be armed and try to attack and kill her, which would unfortunately make a lot of sense since she did allow such horrible things to be said about him. Words vile and cruel that she didn't really mean if she thought hard enough about them.
"What's a matter?" Silvana asks, squeezing her hand as Panem's anthem begins to play to recount the deaths of the day. There's a see-through roof that their little shelter has and Danika can see the country's seal through the glass.
"It's Lobo," Danika sighs, her voice wavering, "I just can't help but think––"
"That he's dead?" Hennessy cuts her off and grunts, "I was thinking the same thing… I just don't really want to… you know, assume the worst." He looks side to side for a moment before the presentation starts, "Because if he was, he'd die thinking—"
"That we hate him," Danika nods, trying to think past it even though it's impossible, "Which is far from the truth as I'm sure you know."
"Most definitely…" Silvana admits, "I just, I was upset yesterday, okay?"
"I know, I know," Danika tries to assure the girl yet her voice isn't all that assuring, "Because it was supposed to be a day to celebrate us—"
"Exactly," She squeezes Danika harder, "It was supposed to be our special day but then it sort of got shafted by the whole monster thing and it could have been avoided so quickly if Lobo just didn't go and talk to it earlier that day."
"Right," Hennessy agrees with them, "And it just wasn't a good time for anybody… and we were all so angry and I just… if he lives we have to find him, okay? Even if the world splits open like I suspect it will, we have to find Lobo and tell him that we're sorry."
The music plays louder and Danika holds her breath amongst her allies when the first face shows itself in the sky. The girl from Seven, Garrick's partner.
"Shit," Silvana mutters under her breath, "I always thought she seemed nice. A bit useless considering she followed around Hennessy's partner like a puppy—"
"Yeah, she'd follow around Bonnie a lot," Hennessy nods, a somber expression on his face, "Shit taste on her part but I can't fault her, some people are just rutiluphilic like that."
"They're what?" Silvana raises a brow and chuckles.
"They only want to fuck gingers," He bites his lip, impressed with himself for knowing such a random word, "I think her name was Sable… another poor girl who fell victim to fetishization of girls with red hair."
Danika's never met anybody with natural red hair, or at least she hasn't gotten close to anyone like that, but pink-haired girls on the other hand… damn, if Bonnie treated Seven the way Silvana treats her, she'd go insane herself with her gone. Though she figures that's very much not the case, just based on what Hennessy's said about her.
Another face appears in the sky but Danika finds that the three of them all have their heads hung down as to avoid looking. It's almost as if they already know… emphasis on almost.
"You realize we won't know unless we look?" Danika offers, dread swirling in her stomach with toxicity and haste, "Maybe we all do it together?"
"Sounds like a plan," Silvana whispers, her palm beginning to sweat like a dog, "Ready?"
"Ready." Hennessy exhales, the three of them then looking up through the glass and then promptly wishing that they didn't.
Because when they look to the stars they don't see the girl from Eight or the kids from Eleven, they see Lobo Kallenbach himself, stars blending into freckles on his face and for once a smile not beamed across his teeth. He looks oddly serious, actually. Almost like he's pissed at them for leaving him to die and again, Danika can't blame him. And she can't even process that he's dead either. The first friend she met on this wild journey now just a face in a sky, a prayer unanswered, a blessing that'll never be told to the world. Somebody who will now go unremembered when he tried his hardest to be as memorable as humanly possible.
There's an odd silence amongst the group, tears forming in Danika's eyes and Silvana and Hennessy clearly speechless. It's what they wanted least and now it's staring them in the eye and taunting them, telling them they're just utter trash.
"Well, shit," Silvana tries to break the silence with an awkward laugh but it doesn't particularly work, "That was… not very ideal."
Nobody answers her for a minute. Just uncomfortable silence once more and then Danika, "I feel guilty of this."
Because she does. Danika should have tried harder to control herself and not be a bitch and let her emotions rule over logic. She should have been guided by the good and not the bitter or the spiteful. She just… there's so much that Danika Xiong should have done but she didn't do it and now Lobo's dead and she feels like the blood's on her hands.
"I do too," Hennessy admits, sweat dripping down from his forehead, "I feel like a fucking asshole, and like I know I've always been a mess but never in a way that it got somebody killed."
"Okay good, we're on the same page," Silvana exhales, a hostile emotion to her tone, "I just… he deserved to win this more than any of us. He was so much… I don't know… authentic?"
"That," Danika sighs, "He's the one who brought us all together and we just… fed him to the wolves basically like we didn't give a shit."
Because it turns out, words can kill, even if it's not in the way Danika expected they would, "I should've been less of an ass, damnit."
"You were fine," Silvana does her best to reassure her even if it's hard, "I was the worst one… the shit I said? Inexcusable, and then I kicked him out and now he's dead and it's all my fault—"
"It's the world's fault," Hennessy insists, "We're probably being pulled apart on purpose. But also… I just, shouldn't have said what I said. I'm going to be sick…"
"Me too," Danika tries to sit in a chair and close her eyes but her minds still dust and ashes as she tries to deal with what she's done and finds herself completely unable to cope. She's… so bad now, just as bad as the others who killed here, even if she didn't kill herself.
And she doesn't deserve the crown or trophies or any of the glory. She doesn't deserve Silvana even though they both played a part in it because Danika was perfectly capable of stopping her.
So whatever she does from here on out, Danika Xiong'll do it with the full knowledge that it should be Lobo and not her.
Hesson Adair Svárovský. 18.
District One Male.
Forrest of Food, Center. 23:20.
Hesson has learned that he doesn't really mind the quiet. His alliance is a fat fucking mess after all so it's probably for the best if they shut their traps every once in a while. The day's dwindling down and after a long day of trying (and failing) to find and kill District Eleven, interruption is the last thing he needs. He just wants to be himself and try to forget how awful his circumstances are.
Simply put, Hesson feels here the same way he felt with his parents and Alaban, unwanted, useless, worthless. He feels like he doesn't matter and like they don't even like him, probably because they don't, and they don't even know that I'm a lying bastard so what's their excuse, huh? Is it that I'm annoying? I'm sorry that me wanting to find and kill the people who took out Meridian is annoying… Especially since they haven't killed anyone since the first day and there's been three deaths since, at least one having to have been at the Eleven's hands.
There's also the fear that they're coming for him. Her words repeatedly haunt him, "Sleep with one eye open…" So he has barely been sleeping at all, and Ludovicus doesn't believe him when he says that the Elevens simply have to be looking for him and as a result them. It's infuriating, that's what it is!
"Do you think there's going to be a fire again?" Saia asks, referring to the way they had to run over mountains the past few days, "Because if so, wouldn't that be soon."
For fucks sake, of course there's going to be another fucking fire, this shit always works in threes if not even greater series, how does Saia not fucking realize that, damnit that fucker! Hesson truly is unable to tolerate him at this point.
"An astute observation," Hesson mutters under his breath, a clear bitter tone consuming him, "No shit, which is why we should probably get a move on to wherever direction the mountains are."
"Do you have to be so condescending?" Ludo stands up from his log with a smug look on his face, "Why do you think you're better than us? Saia was just asking a simple question, what's the big deal in that."
"Well, now that you asked, yes I do," Is what Hesson wants to say but he knows that Ludo will scream at him if he does, the same way Alaban did whenever he made even the slightest of errors. Maybe that's why Hesson can't fucking stand him, because he's so damn similar to his brother. Ludo's everything that Hesson's supposed to be, everything his parents shamed him for not being, and now he gets off scott free and is deemed a hero for acting the way Hesson was taught to despise. So instead, Hesson answers differently with, "I just thought it was obvious, sir."
The last thing he wants to do is start another fight with Ludo since his voice is just so disturbingly loud when he's angry and it reminds him of his father too and Hesson just wants to either rip Ludo's throat out or rip his own ears out to avoid hearing all that yelling and screaming again.
"Sure you did," Ludovicus snaps back and Hesson gets up, his feet carrying him forwards, in autopilot like he's about to put the bastard out of his misery yet Magnificence holds him back.
"The fuck was that for?" Hesson wraps his fingers around Magnificence's wrist, "I'm trying to prove a point here."
"Is your point one that can be only proven by killing him," She snarls in response at a volume so loud it surprises Hesson a bit, "Because if it is then I don't have time for it."
"Fuck you," He scowls, digging his feat further into the ground as to express his utter rage.
"We're moving," Ludo announces, not soon afterwards, "We've got to go before the fire comes back again!"
And in his voice is the tone of some sort of genius who's acting like it was his own idea to move, not even acknowledging Saia or the fact that Hesson too mentioned all day that they should be prepared to not sit in one place and just travel for however long these daily fires lasted.
He's walking at the back of the pack as per usual since nobody wants to walk with him anymore when he hears voices that he swears he recognizes.
"He's over here…"
And then the rustling of bushes.
"Look at him tremble… he's going to burst a blood vessel."
More rustling.
It's in his head, Hesson convinces himself that it's not real voices, just his mind playing tricks on him yet he runs a bit closer to the pack, a bit closer to Magnificence and Saia just in case.
And that's when he feels and arm wrapped around his wrist, and then the same voice he heard earlier, "We told you that we'd be back for you soon enough, pretty boy." The look on the girl from Eleven's face is just as sinister as Hesson remembers.
He shouts because it's all he knows, "Fuck you," knowing that it won't be enough to free him of her grip but it does get the attention of the others who look around to see Hesson struggling to break loose.
Ludo stands still like he's debating whether or not he wants to be a decent fucking person and free Hesson who can't even reach his khopesh to swing at her.
"Somebody fucking help me," Hesson calls out yet they all stare at him.
Unamused, the girl squints her brow, "What's wrong? I thought these were your dearest allies? Was the girl from Four like this too—"
"Meridian." He cuts her off, "And no, she was a good person."
"Interesting," Though it doesn't appear that she's actually interested in what Hesson has to say, "You take his hand and I'll talk to their little leader." She walks over to Ludo who's got his mace held high. He steps towards her too.
Hesson looks around at the other members of his alliance, trying not to think out loud though he does ask the Elevens, "What do you want from me?"
She bats her eyelashes, "Isn't it obvious? We're going to kill you. Well, we'll torture you first but then… yeah."
That's all Hesson needs to hear for his survival instincts to take over, his wrist snapping as he breaks free of the boy's grasp and his feat carrying him towards Magnificence who screams. But he doesn't hesitate, he just grabs on to her and calls out to them, "Take her instead…"
He isn't sure what compels him to grab on to Magnificence, but it's probably the fact she's least attached to the others, hopefully meaning they won't try to kill him.
Hesson squeezes her wrists together then drags her on the ground until she ends up in the Eleven boy's grip, the girl walking back to them with a grimace on her face, "Oh, you want us to kill her instead? I thought you were equipped to lead this alliance yet you're giving somebody up for murder."
"Fuck… off…" Hesson pouts, dragging his khopesh at the ground and turning away to swing at the Eleven's only to see that they're gone and Magnificence is nowhere to be found.
Hesson looks to the side and sees Ludo's face a bright shade of red, steam practically coming out of his ears while Cyra restrains him, "It's not worth it Ludo. He's not going to last a day alone anyways."
"I'm tired of him," He proclaims through gritted teeth, "I want him dead."
Before Hesson can hear any more he runs off, hoping and praying that the others aren't following him but knowing that if he tries his best and goes as fast as he can, they won't. And he's still sweating, not even because he's angry but because he's afraid just the same. Not of Ludo, of course not, but of the Elevens because if they find him again it's not like he can just give somebody up. He's on his own now, there's no denying that so he's just going to have to embrace it.
And lucky for Hesson, he's used to being alone. He's used to fending for himself because it seems like the whole fucking world hates him anyways. He's done expecting them to like him too. He got into the Games for one reason and one reason only, because he's damn good at playing dirty. And if Hesson's going to get out, all he needs to do is play dirty even harder.
Gluttony. It's just a fast track to greed.
Everybody is hungry for something even if it's out of spite.
Everybody is hungry until it destroys them from the inside out, but even then they want to go back for more, helping after helping until they bloat and explode.
It's a vicious cycle yet everyone falls down it at least once or twice.
And even if they don't eat another person, they'll eat something worse.
Don't let that be you.
Wish You Were Here by Incubus
14th Place: Lobo Kallenbach, District Ten - Killed by Bubba St. Robbins